“You look ill.”
“I’m all right.”
“Then run along like a duck and get rid of that old bore for me.”
“Cora—please see him?”
“Not me! I’ve got too much to think about to bother with him.”
Laura walked to the window and stood with her back to her sister, apparently interested in the view of Corliss Street there presented. “Cora,” she said, “why don’t you marry him and have done with all this?”
Cora hooted.
“Why not? Why not marry him as soon as you can get ready? Why don’t you go down now and tell him you will? Why not, Cora?”
“I’d as soon marry a pail of milk—yes, tepid milk, skimmed! I——”
“Don’t you realize how kind he’d be to you?”